Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: February 2016

Monday, February 29, 2016

The Lady who Called Me “NEUTRAL” – a Romance Story

Humor in and out of Uniform

Unforgettable Characters I Met During My Wonderful Navy Life

I saw plenty of humour in uniform.

And – I saw plenty of humour “out of uniform” too, interacting with some delightful “fauji” ladies aka “faujans”.

Here is one such hilarious story from my “Humor in and out of Uniform Archives” – once more – for you to enjoy.

YOU ARE “NEUTRAL” – a Love Story

Unforgettable Vignettes of my Navy Life

A Spoof

VIKRAM KARVE

YOU ARE “NEUTRAL” – a Love Story by Vikram Karve

“You are neutral,” the middle-aged lady with suspiciously black hair said to me.

I was stunned, totally bewildered.

In my life, especially in the Navy, I had been called all sorts of names.

But, no one had ever called me “neutral”.

This happened 24 years ago, in December 1991.

It was my welcome party at the officers’ mess of IAT, an inter-service institution near Pune, to which I had been recently appointed.

The middle-aged lady with suspiciously black hair, a senior officer’s wife, asked me, “How many children do you have?”

“Two. I have two children – a boy and a girl,” I said.

Hearing this, she remarked, “You are neutral.”

On seeing my puzzled look, she elaborated on her remark.

She pointed to my boss, a Commodore, and she said: “Look at him. He is so lucky. He has two sons. It is a double lottery. And look at me. I have two daughters. I am so unlucky. But you have one son and one daughter – at least you are neutral – neither lucky nor unlucky.”

“How does it matter whether you have sons or daughters?” I asked her.

The senior lady (let us call her “Mrs. G”) explained to me: “You modern Maharashtrians living in cosmopolitan cities like Pune will not understand. But we come from an upcountry state, and that too we belong to a business community, and in our community all this matters a lot. I wish I had at least one son.”

“Then why don’t you have one?” I said, tongue-in-cheek.

“We tried. We wanted to have a son. But then I had some gynaec problems…” she said most candidly.

I was not interested in hearing explicit details of her gynaecological problems, so I politely excused myself and headed for the bar.

A few days later, during my evening walk, I met Mrs. G along with her two teenage daughters.

They invited me over for a cup of tea.

As I talked to them, I was mighty impressed by the girls – they were smart, intelligent, poised, and full of social graces.

Any parent would feel proud of such accomplished daughters.

But Mrs. G would keep cribbing, whining and carping about her misfortune of having two daughters.

Two years later, we heard that her elder daughter had secured a merit ranking in the CET and was selected for admission for the MBBS course at the premier medical college in Mumbai.

We went to congratulate Mrs. G on her daughter’s success.

“What congratulations? I am sunk,” Mrs. G said despondently.

Stunned into silence for a moment, I asked her in amazement, “What are you saying? Your daughter is going to become a doctor – her career, her life is made.”

“That is what I am worried about,” Mrs. G said.

“Worried?” I asked her.

“Now we will have to find her a doctor husband – a status match – and do you know what the going rate for a doctor is?” Mrs. G said matter-of-factly.

“Dowry? Are you talking about dowry in this world and age?” I asked, surprised.

Mrs. G gave me an incredulous look, and then irritably said to me: “Which world are you living in? Of course, you city-bred Maharashtrians will never understand, but in our society if you want a status match it is an expensive affair. That is why I warned my husband not to let her appear for CET. I wanted my daughter to do her BA at Fergusson College or Wadia College. We could have found some nice fauji boy for her – some nice army, navy or air force officer. Or better still, maybe she would have found some good Maharashtrian boy for herself and settled down here in Pune – then there would be no problem of giving dowry too!”

“Maybe your beautiful daughter will find some nice Maharashtrian boy in her medical college,” I said optimistically.

Mrs. G looked at me for some time.

Then her face brightened up and she said to me, “I hope so. I really hope so. If what you say comes out to be true I will give you a big treat...”

Her exact words to me in Hindi were:

Agar Aisa Hua To Tumhare Muh Mein Ghee Shakkar

( अगर ऐसा हुआ तो तुम्हारे मुह में घी शक्कर )

Literally translated – this means:

“If what you say happens – then I will put clarified butter (ghee) and sugar in your mouth.”

EPILOGUE

By the way – what I had predicted did actually happen.

Mrs. G’s accomplished daughter fell in love with a nice Maharashtrian Boy studying in her Medical College.

It was mutual love – the nice Maharashtrian Boy also fell in love with Mrs. G’s daughter.

And – the moment they passed out of college – the two doctors happily tied the knot.

Many years have passed since – but I am still waiting for Mrs. G to put Ghee Shakkar in my mouth...

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

1. This story is a spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.

2. All Stories in this Blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

This Story Was Written By Me 3 Years Ago Was First Posted Online by me Vikram Karve on 17 September 2013 at 9/17/2013 01:12:00 PM in my blog at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/09/you-are-neutral-humour-hilarious-story.html and later re-posted a number of times by me including at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2014/06/humor-in-uniform-senior-lady-who-called.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/11/you-are-neutral-love-story.html

Yo-Ho-Ho !!! And – a Bottle of Rum : Humor in Uniform

Humor in Uniform

Delightful Memories of My Unforgettable Navy Days

Here is a “memoir” from the happiest days of my life – my early bachelor days in the Navy.

This hilarious story happened many years ago – in the 1970’s ...

YO-HO-HO !!! AND – A BOTTLE OF RUM

The Story of Lieutenant “Z”

A Spoof

VIKRAM KARVE

Lieutenant “Z” was transferred to Kolkata (or Calcutta – as the city was called in the 1970’s – but I will use the present name Kolkata in this story).

The “powers-that-be” thought Lieutenant “Z” would be very happy with his transfer – since Kolkata was his hometown.

Instead of being happy on seeing his transfer order – surprisingly – Lieutenant “Z” got very upset.

So – Lieutenant “Z” rushed to his ship’s Captain to get his transfer cancelled.

“We thought you would be happy – Kolkata is your hometown,” the Captain said.

“Sir – I don’t want to leave the ship…” Lieutenant “Z” said.

“Oh – it’s good to see that you are a true ‘sea-dog’ – and you like the tough life at sea – but then – you have to go ashore…” the Captain said.

“But – Why – Sir…?” Lieutenant “Z” asked.

“See – you got your ‘watchkeeping ticket’ last year – and you have served for more than one year on board as a sea watch-keeping officer – and you will be due for your ‘Long Course’ after 2 years…” the Captain said to Lieutenant “Z”.

“Sir – I can spend these 2 years on board this ship – or some other ship – but I don’t want to go to Kolkata – especially in that shore appointment…” Lieutenant “Z” said.

The Captain was getting exasperated – so he said a bit angrily to the young officer: “Look here Lieutenant “Z” – there is a bloody shortage of ships and sea billets – and we have plenty of young officers waiting for their watch-keeping tickets – so you will have to cool your heels ashore for 2 years till your ‘Long Course’ comes through…”

“Okay – Sir – if I have to go ashore – then please change my transfer to some other place – I do not wish to go to Kolkata…” Lieutenant “Z” said.

“I just don’t understand you – what’s wrong with Kolkata – it is your hometown – you can be with your parents, family and friends – I personally talked to DOP to get you this appointment – your CO at Kolkata is my friend and he is an excellent officer – he will give you a thumping ACR…” the Captain said.

“Sir – I don’t want to go to Kolkata…” Lieutenant “Z” said firmly.

“Lieutenant “Z” – I am warning you – if you act funny – we will send to ‘Kala Pani’ in the Andaman…” the Captain said threateningly.

“Sir – please send me to the Andamans…” “Lieutenant “Z” said happily.

“Are you crazy…? Why don’t you want to go to Kolkata…? Do you have you some family problems...?” the Captain asked.

“Sir – Booze is expensive in Kolkata…” Lieutenant “Z” said, matter-of-factly.

“What…? What do you mean ‘Booze is expensive in Kolkata’…? Is that the reason why you do not want to go there…?” an incredulous Captain asked “Lieutenant “Z”.

“Sir – the only worthwhile perk we get is ‘concessional liquor’ – that is why I want to remain on board ship so that I can enjoy ‘duty-free booze’ – but if I have to go ashore – please send me to a place where ‘Military Booze’ is cheap – Sir – the price of CSD Quota Liquor in Bengal is 3 times more expensive than the price out here in Maharashtra…” Lieutenant “Z” said.

(This story happened in the 1970’s – when CSD Quota Liquor was cheapest in Maharashtra.

However – since tax concessions are given by State Governments – and local taxes/concessions keep changing from time to time – the situation may be quite different now – and it is possible that ‘Military Booze’ may be more expensive in Maharashtra than in other states.

But even now – the prices of CSD Quota Liquor vary widely from state to state – so ‘Military Booze’ is cheaper in some states – and more expensive in other states)

Now – after this brief aside – let us continue with the interesting tête-à-tête between Lieutenant “Z” and his Captain...

“So – you wanted to remain on board this ship so that you can enjoy cheap ‘duty free booze’…?” the Captain asked Lieutenant “Z”.

“Yes – Sir…” Lieutenant “Z” said.

“And you even prefer to go to the Andamans because booze is cheaper there…?” the Captain asked Lieutenant “Z”.

“Yes – Sir…”

“It seems that you joined the Navy to drink liquor…!”

“Yes – Sir…”

“What nonsense…? Are you crazy…?” the Captain shouted at Lieutenant “Z”.

“Sir – the main reason I joined the ‘Boozy Navy’ was to enjoy the best of ‘duty-free’ booze – that is the reason why I want to serve on ships for the maximum possible time – but if I have to go ashore – the least I can do is to enjoy my full quota of CSD ‘Military Liquor’ at the cheapest possible rates…” Lieutenant “Z” said, speaking candidly.

“Are you mad…? Are you saying that the only reason why people should join the Defence Services is to drink alcohol…? That means – according to you – teetotallers should not join the Navy – or the Armed Forces…” the Captain said.

“Sir – I told you before – the only worthwhile perk we get in the Defence Services is ‘concessional liquor’ – so what is the point of wasting your life in the Military if you are not going to enjoy this exclusive ‘Fauji Perk’ of ‘Military Booze’…? And if you don’t drink – if you are a teetotaller – you might as well take up a civilian job, live a comfortable life, and earn plenty of money…” Lieutenant “Z” pontificated.

“I am a strict teetotaller – I don’t touch alcohol…” the Captain said angrily, “…are you saying that I am wasting my time in the Navy…?”

“Sir – just think of all the ‘Duty-Free’ Booze and CSD Quota Liquor you have missed out on in all these 25 years of your service…” Lieutenant “Z” said – with genuine regret in his eyes.

“You are a crazy bugger…! Just get out my cabin…” the Captain shouted at Lieutenant “Z”.

EPILOGUE

Two things happened after this amusing tête-à-tête between Lieutenant “Z” and his Captain.

The Captain picked up the phone and spoke to the DOP (who was his course-mate).

The DOP had a big laugh when the Captain told him the ‘Boozy’ reason why Lieutenant “Z”wanted his transfer changed.

Since there was no billet available in the Andamans (where ‘Military Booze’ was the cheapest those days) – DOP did the next best thing possible – and – Lieutenant “Z”was transferred as a Divisional Officer to NDA near Pune where the price of CSD Quota Liquor was the same as in Mumbai – since both Pune and Mumbai were in Maharashtra State.

Then – the Captain thought about his conversation with Lieutenant “Z”.

Lieutenant “Z” had a point.

Every job had its perks – the Railways gave free Rail Passes to its employees – Airlines gave free Air Tickets – Academicians got sabbaticals – the Corporate Sector too gave a variety of perks and freebies to its Executives – and everyone availed of these perks.

Similarly – the Defence Services too had their perks – and the most unique ‘Military Perk’ was ‘Concessional Liquor’.

So – what was the point in joining the Navy and not availing of this most precious perk?

Why forgo something given to you – and then regret and complain later that you could not make the most of all the perks given to you by the Navy?

The Captain thought of the ‘notional loss’ he had incurred during the 25 long ‘teetotalism’ years of his service in the Navy because he had sacrificed this authorised ‘Military Perk’ by not availing his ‘Liquor Quota’ and by not enjoying ‘duty-free’ Booze on board all the ships on which he had served.

There is a saying: “Better Late than Never”.

The Captain asked his steward to get him some chilled beer.

It was only 11 o’clock in the morning – but that did not matter – he had to make up for all these 25 lost years of teetotalism.

At first – the Captain’s steward was a bit surprised – but – when he saw the Captain gesturing him to hurry up – the steward served the Captain a chilled can of premium imported beer (available dirt cheap at ‘duty-free’ rates on board ship).

This was the Captain’s first sip of booze ever since he joined the Navy more than 25 years ago.

Cheers !!!

AFTERTHOUGHT

Instead of wasting money on all those fancy unrealistic military recruitment advertisements – why don’t the Defence Services highlight “CSD Quota Concessional Liquor” as the “USP” of Military Life...?

And – of course – as far as the Navy is concerned – shouldn’t “Duty Free Booze” be highlighted as a special incentive to join the Navy...?

Think about it ... !!!

VIKRAM KARVE

Disclaimer:

1. This story is a spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.

2. This Story and All Stories in this Blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

Revised version of my story THE BOOZY NAVY written by me Vikram Karve on 25 May 2015 and and posted online in my blog at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/05/humor-in-uniform-boozy-navy.html and revised/reposted on 12 October 2015 at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/10/humor-in-uniform-question-of-perks.html

Sunday, February 28, 2016

“PR” Girl in “Corporate Communications”

Recently – I interacted with a girl who said that she works in “Corporate Communications”.

After talking to her for some time – I realized that, basically, she was a “Ghostwriter” – and – I remembered this story...

GHOSTWRITER

A Story

VIKRAM KARVE

Unforgettable tête-à-tête at the Literary Festival

“Is it you…?” I asked.

“Of course – it is ‘Me’…” she said.

“It is so nice to meet you after so many years…” I said.

“Yes – it’s great to meet you too after so many years – it’s been 15 years – isn’t it…?” she said.

15 years ago – in the year 2000 – we had met at a Creative Writers’ Workshop in Mumbai.

In the workshop – at 45 – I must have been the “oldest” participant – and – she – barely 20 – still a college student – was surely the youngest.

During the workshop we were asked to read out our creative writing – the fiction short stories we had written – and – I remembered her the most among all participants – because she had a unique ‘peppy’ writing style – she wrote a lot of ‘dialogue’ – in fact – some of her stories were entirely in dialogue – and this made her writing very lively and a joy to read.

Once – when we were asked to form ‘pairs’ – to evaluate each other’s writing – she chose me as her ‘partner’.

“Why did you choose an ‘old fogey’ like me…?” I said to her, surprised.

“Well – you seem genuinely interested in my writing – the others seem to be more interested in me than my writing…” she said, pithily.

As it happens most of the time – after the workshop – all of us participants promised to keep in touch with each other – but – soon – we got busy in our day-to-day affairs and we lost contact with each other.

But – I always remembered my young ‘partner’ – especially her lively writing style – and – in fact – I tried to emulate her sprightly storytelling style in my own writing – and I wrote plenty of ‘dialogue’ in my stories.

Now – 15 years later – it was a pleasant surprise to run into her at a Literary Festival in Pune.

“I am really delighted to see you…” I said.

“Me too…” she said.

I looked at her and said: “I don’t know whether it is a coincidence – or serendipity – but just last week – I was browsing in a bookstore in Mumbai – and there was a book-launch – a celebrity ‘autobiography’…”

“Celebrity ‘autobiography’…?” she interrupted.

“Yes – a book authored by ‘XXX’ – I am sure you have heard of her…” I said.

“Of course I have heard of ‘XXX’ – who doesn’t know her…?” she said.

“Yes – it was the book-launch of the autobiography written by ‘XXX’ – and – I don’t know why – but they gave away free copies of the book to all of us who attended the book-launch…” I said.

“Really…? That is quite generous of them. Maybe the book isn’t selling…” she commented.

“Not at all – the book is selling very well. In fact – this book has become a highly successful ‘bestseller’…” I said.

“Wow – but what was the ‘coincidence’ you were talking about…?” she asked.

“Oh yes – about the ‘coincidence’. Well – I read the book on the Deccan Queen that evening on the way back to Pune. And while reading it – do you know what I discovered…?” I said.

“What…?” she asked me.

“Her writing style is exactly like your unique style – ‘XXX’ – the ‘celebrity’ – she writes exactly like you used to write – plenty of ‘dialogue’ – just imagine – it is an ‘autobiography’ – but instead of ‘description’ – the ‘celebrity’ has written plenty of ‘dialogue’ – just like you used to write – and this makes his life-story so ‘lively’ – just like your writing…” I said.

“Really…? Are you trying to say that this ‘celebrity author’ is trying to imitate me…?” she asked with a naughty smile.

“Come – I will show you – the book is for sale at the bookshop they have set up in the literary festival near the entrance to the main hall…” I said.

I took her to the bookshop display – and I pointed out the book to her.

“Oh – that book …” she said, with a wry smile.

“Yes – the way it is written – it is so much like your distinctive style – when I read it – I almost thought that you have written the book…” I said.

“I have written that book…” she said, nonchalantly.

“What…” I asked, bewildered.

“Yes – I have written the book…” she repeated, coolly.

“You have written the book…? How is that possible…? It is the ‘autobiography’ of a ‘celebrity’…” I said, puzzled.

“I have ‘ghostwritten’ the book…” she said.

“Ghostwritten…?” I said, perplexed.

“Yes – the entire book was written by me – and the ‘celebrity’ ‘XXX’ is credited as the author…” she said.

“Really…? Well – the ‘celebrity’ has expressed her gratitude to so many persons – but I did not see your name anywhere – she hasn’t even bothered to mention your name in the acknowledgements…” I said.

“Why should she take the risk mentioning my name anywhere in the book…? Surely – she doesn’t want to let the cat out of the bag – if the truth gets known – she will be exposed as a ‘fake’ author. Just imagine – if people come to know that her ‘autobiography’ has been ‘ghostwritten’ – what will happen to her carefully cultivated image as an ‘accomplished author’…?”

“But you can always tell the world that it is you who wrote the book. Why don’t you tell everyone that you are the actual author of the book – and not ‘XXX’ – why should she take credit for your work…?” I asked her.

“I have signed a nondisclosure contract that legally forbids me to mention my role in the writing project…” she said.

“A contract…? For writing a book in someone else’s name…?” I asked.

“Yes – there is a ‘confidentiality clause’ in the contract that obligates me to remain ‘anonymous’. Well – the ‘XXX’ is the ‘credited author’ and I have signed off all my rights to her – this is what all ghostwriters have to do – a ‘ghostwriter’ has to give away all her rights and copyrights to the ‘credited author’…” she said.

“But – don’t you feel bad about it – someone else taking credit for your creative work…” I asked.

“I need the money…” she said.

“Money…” I asked her.

“Do you how much money “XXX” paid me for ghostwriting her ‘autobiography’…?” she said.

“How much…?” I asked her.

She told me the amount.

I was stunned when I heard the figure.

It was a staggering amount of money – well beyond my imagination – she was paid more money for ghostwriting the book than I earned in an entire year.

“I know what you are thinking…” she said.

“What…?” I asked.

She looked at me and said: “You are wondering why I am ‘selling my soul’ for easy money…”

“You must be feeling terrible, isn’t it – someone else taking full credit for your creative efforts…” I said.

“Of course it feels bad – after all – creative recognition has its own intrinsic value…” she said, “but then – I told you that I need the money…”

I looked at her – confused – wondering whether I should despise her for her unethical conduct – or admire her for her pragmatic attitude.

For sometime – we sat in silence.

Then – suddenly – she said: “Hey – when is your session…?”

“Session…” I asked.

“Have you become ‘absent minded’ or what…” she said, “It is already 3 o’clock and you are supposed to conduct a workshop on ‘Blogging’ at 3:30…”

She opened the program schedule – and pointed it out to me: “Here it is – ‘Workshop on Blogging’ – by you – at 3:30 – in Hall No. 3…”

“Oh yes…” I said, “in fact – I have come to the literary festival mainly for that…”

“Even I have come to the literary festival today mainly for your ‘Blogging Workshop’…” she said.

“Really – I can’t believe it – I am no great writer…” I said.

“Well – you are a top ‘Blogger’ – you are so prolific – you write on so many topics – fiction – ‘non-fiction’ – technology – management – food – book reviews – self-help – philosophy – education – so many varied genres – and you post a blog every day – do you even know the huge number of ‘page-views’ your blog gets every day…?” she asked.

“No – I just blog and forget about it…” I said.

She looked at her watch and said: “Hey – let’s go – you don’t want to be late for your session – do you…?”

After the workshop – we went to the café for a cup of tea.

“Well – you landing up at the book-launch of my ‘ghostwritten’ book may have been serendipity – but my meeting you here is no coincidence – as I told you – I came here to the Literary Festival specifically to meet you…” she said.

“Really…” I asked.

She pulled out a business card from her purse – and she gave it to me.

“Wow – you are the ‘Director’ of a ‘PR Consultancy Firm’…” I said.

“Well – I can’t call it a ‘Ghostwriting Consultancy’ – can I…?” she said, “…PR is a ‘catch-all’ euphemism for everything – ‘ethical’ and ‘not so ethical’…”

I looked at the business card and said: “So – you do all types of ‘ghostwriting’ – even ‘professional articles’, ‘research papers’, ‘dissertations’ and ‘thesis’…”

“You name it – and we ‘ghostwrite’ it – well – I look after the ‘creative writing’ assignments – for other more specialized technical ‘projects’ we commission appropriately qualified ‘ghostwriters’ – or – ‘researchers’ – as we call them. Let me tell you that there are many persons in the corporate sector and industry who want to masquerade as “experts” – but they do not have the requisite professional knowledge – nor do they possess good writing skills – so they come to us to do ‘research’ and ‘ghostwrite’ – for articles and books – which are published under their names to build up their professional credibility – and – of course – there are the “rich and famous” celebrities who want to build a façade of a “literary image” and wish “show off” their “literary achievements” as “successful authors” by “writing” bestseller books which are hailed as “literary classics...” she said.

I listened awestruck – and then I said to her: “Hey – you didn’t tell me why you wanted to meet me…?”

“I have been following your blog for quite some time now – and I really admire the way you blog so passionately – and now – after I saw the way you conducted the ‘Blogging Workshop’ – I am really impressed…” she said.

“Thanks…” I said.

Then – she looked at me – directly into my eyes – and she said to me: “Well – if you want to ‘sell your soul’ – do give me a call…”

“Sell my soul…?” I asked, puzzled.

“We need a ‘Blog Ghostwriter’ – and who better to ‘ghostwrite’ blogs than you…?” she said.

“But…” I stammered.

“Think about it…” she interrupted, “you can earn a substantial amount of money if you ‘encash’ your talent…”

“...‘encash’ my talent…” I mumbled, incoherently.

She looked at her watch – and said: “Hey – it is already 5:30 – time for me to go…”

She typed out an SMS on her jazzy ‘Smartphone’ – and sent it.

“Come…” she said, “I have called my car...”

We walked to the foyer.

A chauffeur driven SUV car appeared at the foyer – and stopped before us.

Before I could react – the smartly dressed chauffeur got out and opened the door for her.

Before she got into her luxury car – she said to me: “I will wait for your call. There is a tremendous market for ‘Blog Ghostwriting” – and – with your talent – the sky’s the limit – you cannot even imagine the amount of money you will be able to earn – your life will change…”

After she drove off in style – I trudged towards the bus stop.

I stood in the queue waiting for a bus – and I thought about the eventful day at the literary festival – especially the unforgettable tête-à-tête with the ‘Ghostwriter’.

EPILOGUE

At night – I sat in front of my laptop – to write a blog post about my day at the literary festival.

I took out the business card my ‘Ghostwriter’ friend had given me – and I looked at it.

I asked myself – what did I want in life…?

What was more important for me – ‘intrinsic satisfaction’ and ‘creative recognition’ by writing under my own name – or – ‘extrinsic reward’ by ‘selling my soul’ and ‘ghostwriting’ in anonymity…

My ‘inner voice’ spoke to me – clearly and distinctly.

I tore up the business card – and I threw it in the dustbin.

Then – I started writing this blog post – under my very own name.

VIKRAM KARVE

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in this story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

Repost of my Story GHOST WRITER posted online by me Vikram Karve around 3 months ago at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/12/ghost-writer.html